The Gunslingers
by Bloodspot
Summary: An ex Gunner, a BoS Field Scribe, a Synth, a Power Armour wearing Scavenger, a Raider Psycho and a redheaded Irish Girl are mysteriously brought together by a "Mr Brixton" to do a very "important" job. Their journey will have them questioning their sanity, friendship and own morals. will they all see it through to the end, or fall victim to the dreadful Boston Wasteland. Many OC's


**The Gunslingers**

 _ **A/N:- My second story ever so yeah, could suck. The first thing you might notice is Cait's dialogue, this is due to her Irish accent, no offence intended to anyone! If you get confused, PM me and hopefully I can help but things may be confusing cus exam season, A-levels and FanFic don't mix aha. I needed to upload so my interest in writing didn't die out. My Bioshock story is on a Hiatus due to my lack of Bioshock inspiration so this will probably be my main story and I will stick with it! DLC will be included and major plot points so SPOILER warning now. There's gonna be a lot of detail so please stick with it. Bethesda own all original Fallout content besides my OC's and story arc.**_

Chapter 1: Dug-Out

-"Yer not so fooking big wid me boot up yer arse, are ye?!" Cait shouted in her Irish tone as she punched one guy in the Jaw, sending him up against the bar of the dug-out in, holding his jaw in pain. "When I say don't touch, it means get the fook off, yer creepy bastard"

Cait had taken it upon herself to have a relaxing drink in Diamond city; a place with different people, a different setting and a well needed change of scenery. It was no surprise that she ended up in another fight...yet again. One patron of the bar thought Cait would be up for a little slap and tickle, his jaw was now telling him otherwise.

-"You...you broke my fucking jaw, you bitch! Carl, get her! The older man said to his darker skinned friend who was clad in a Red Flannel shirt and an old pair of work jeans. He looked at Cait, then to his friend, then pulled out a switchblade from his back pocket.

-"Ohhh, I'm quaking in me fooking boots (!)" Cait said with sarcasm. Cait was used to finding trouble...not that she couldn't handle herself; you just had to feel sorry for the poor bastards that wrong her.

Vadim, one of the owners let out a loud chuckle in his Russian accent at the remark. These bar fights certainly caught his attention as he amassed great pleasure out of watching them.

A crown had formed, waiting in anticipation for Carl to charge Cait with his pig-sticker, while his older friend had stopped cradling his jaw and had turned his attention to the stains on his white shirt and jeans. This caused him to let out a sigh of disgust before running his hands through his long, greasy grey hair, pulling it back across his head.

-"Get her then!" he bellowed to his friend, who was starting to look more like his lapdog with every word that came out of his mouth. The older man clearly was beyond getting even, he wanted blood.

The atmosphere stunk of that stereotypical bar fight that happens almost all the time and everywhere a certain redhead seems to be.

Carl charged Cait who slid to her left and extended her right leg, tripping him up. There was an exclaim from the crowd as she gave him a kick in the ribs for good measure. The other guy at the bar picked up an empty beer bottle and tried to hit Cait over the back of her unsuspecting head but slipped on the liquor that he had spilled on himself when Cait sent him crashing into the bar, seconds after breaking his jaw.

He let out a noise in reaction, causing Cait to promptly turn around and punch him in the nose, sending him back into the bar, only this time with his ass on the floor and arms strung up across two stools on either side. Blood was now rushing down from his nose...something else Cait had broken.

Vadim, who thought the fight lacked the crucial humour that he loved, discreetly tipped over a pitcher in a swift motion that rested on the bar, covering the man in even more alcoholic substances before cleaning out the glass he held in his hand. He, of course, laughed at his incident.

Carl had taken this opportunity to try and grab Cait from behind but he was met with her flinging him over her shoulder and back on the floor. She then picked up his blade and stabbed him in the leg which led to him promptly screaming in pain.

Cait moved her way to the older man who had started this bar fight, knife in hand, then placed her left hand on his scraggy hair to lift his blood soaked head up and placed her blade-wielding right hand to his throat. She was ready to take his life then and there and she would have too if the voice that bellowed out her name had come seconds later.

-"I said, that's enough, Cait!" the voice called out again, causing everyone to turn to the now open door of the dug-out inn that held a figure clad in a blue overcoat and silver-looking chest plate over an old, posh looking shirt.

Hearing the voice a second time promptly caused Cait to let out a devastated sigh and release the man's head before standing up and facing the voice who had called her name. She sauntered upto the man, chucking the switchblade away which hit Carl in the head as he was standing up, causing him to fall back down.

-"Whadda ye gonna do now?! Come to take me back to little old Sanctuary have ye? Just as I was starting to enjoy me self as well"

-"I don't wanna hear it, Cait. Go outside, I'll take to you in a minute" the man said, with a very authoritive and stern tone. He wasn't happy.

-"No, I don't wanna hear it, Howard; I can't be fooked to listed to another one of ye lectures right about now so go do yer good guy thing and I'll see you when I see you!" Cait retaliated before walking past Howard, nudging him with her shoulder as she did, walking off into the dark night.

Howard let out a sigh before placing his right, glove covered hand to the bridge of his nose. He composed himself and walked up to the bar. The man who had just recently got his ass kicked just about stood up and tried to string a sentence together about how he was grateful for Howard stopping "that crazy red-headed bitch" from killing him. Howard just gripped him by the collar and said:

-"If I ever catch you harassing one of my friends again, I'll kill you myself" in a cold tone, before throwing him to the side. He sat at the counter and was greeted by a cheerful Vadim

-"Haha, my friend, you misted a brilliant fight. Brilliant I say! Your little daisy show-"Howard cut him off.

-"I don't wanna hear it Vadim, just pour me a scotch, double" Howard said as he sat down at the bar, causing people to return to their tables and drinks.

*Howard literally looks the same as the default male character, just with pale blue eyes, jet black hair, smaller nose and stronger cheekbones and jaw line*

He was the General of the Commonwealth Minutemen; a title which he had held for nine months after saving a group of settlers from the Concord Museum of Freedom. He had worked closely with Preston Garvey, a fellow Minuteman who appointed Howard General of the New Minutemen Order and they have come a long way in the months that the order had restarted. From bringing together local settlements in the Commonwealth, to taking back the Minutemen headquarters, the Castle, the group had achieved a huge feat and firmly established itself as one of the major factions in the Commonwealth.

In spite of all the things they had achieved in those nine months, they seemed meaningless to Howard as he still searched endlessly for his son, Shaun. Eleven months had passed since he was thawed out of Cryogenic stasis, eleven months (to him) since he had last seen his wife and son. A wife who lie amongst the other dead in Vault 111 and a son who was wrongfully taken from him. He promised Nora that he'd get their boy back, and he would, no matter the cost.

After knocking back his second glass of scotch, Howard stood up, shook a laughing Vadim's hand before saying:

-"Sorry about the mess, charge it to McDonough" in his Charismatic tone which he was known for before winking and walking out the door. Now began the long walk back to Sanctuary, great. Howard was not happy with the state the bar was left in and felt somewhat responsible for what happened. None the less, he made another journey across the Commonwealth.

Howard was relentless in his search; anyone who knew him well enough knew that they were looking at the husk of a great man, anxious to be filed again. He'd always give 110% and still come up short of what he so desperately wishes to find. He'd always try to do right by everyone all the time, a literal superdad. However, everything he'd achieved would all be eclipsed when he finds his son, when he finds Shaun.

Cait had stormed north west as soon as she left the bar, heading back to her home of Sanctuary and cursed Howard all the way up until she reached the bridge that lead to Cambridge before she realised that she didn't hate Howard, she just hated his personality. That good part of him which always clashed with her ideals almost all the time I mean he had given her many things since meeting such as the Military Fatigues and set of Sturdy Combat Armour that she was wearing as well as a nice new shotgun that he found in some raider boat city thing. Whatever, it had a large drum and was just all around better than what she had previously. It was things like this that caused her to lose focus, and because she lost focus, get knocked across the back of the head by a pipe pistol...

The night was turning out to be peaceful and quiet, just the way Harry Lincoln liked it. It had been three months since he went AWOL from the gunners and he just hoped that they never found him because he knows all too well what they do to deserters. He couldn't take it anymore. He signed up to make caps and live long...not to...to...butcher people who got in the way, not to kill innocent children who were barely old enough to have hair on their bodies and certainly not to do what his last job entailed. It will always haunt him and it's all he see's whenever he closes his eyes. The last thing he sees's before he goes to sleep...and the first thing he see's when he wakes up. It will drive him to the edge one day, he could feel it. Constantly gnawing away at him, what he'd done, how everything had turned out, it was all wrong and he knew he should die for it. He was a survivor though and didn't plan on dying anytime soon.

He was a merc and had the personality of one but he was also human and humans have a choice in what they do and there wasn't a damn way in hell he was gonna be a part of it any more. He sat in the old makeshift shack he had constructed in the corner of an old alley and was sitting on an old stool, close to a pot that held his meal that was cooking over a small fire pit. It was a warm night so his Gunner Flannel and jeans provided enough warmth with him being next to the same fire to keep him happy. Boston could either be a sweltering heat pit or a frozen nightmare, there was no in between. Like when it's so cold and you reminisce about that time last summer where you couldn't wait to jump in the river to cool down or when you can barley breath from all the heat and remember the time you and your friends got caught in the rain that didn't stop all day and night. Yeah, it was like that. However, there were some nights when it was warm but there was the odd blow of wind that offered a relaxing chill. Fucked up weather must be a side effect of nuclear fallout.

There were many holes in the wooden walls of the shack. It had a back room that held an old wardrobe at the foot of a bed and a room with a table and chair in the centre and fridge on the right side of the door way that led into the bedroom where all of Harry's gear and supplies were kept. His food was placed in the fridge, even though it hadn't worked for two hundred years but it just seemed a convenient place to keep them.

The makeshift fire pit was in the far right side corner of the main room and the entrance was in the far left side of the room, adjacent from the fridge. Harry could hear all the sound of the night due to the incomplete walls he had, but the sound of a woman screaming promptly caused him to pick up his rifle and investigate. _Damn, looks like this shit is gonna go cold!_ He thought as he hurried out the door of his shack and twards the sound of the noise. It was the human impulse like this that he hated as it caused him to act, doing the right thing without properly thinking of all the repercussions that could come with the choice he made.

After the searing pain in the back of her head, the next thing Cait could remember was being face down in the dirt with two male voices talking about what they'd do with her. Their attitude and vulgarious tone described them as raiders and after the Combat Zone, Cait wasn't gonna spend any more time with raiders again. Those types of triggered moments caused her to focus on one thing...stay alive!

She turned over on her back and tried to get up and fight but was met with another blow to the back of the head and one of them say

-"No, Cunt, stay down; we're not finished talking about you yet. You wouldn't wanna leave so early (!)?!" one of the raiders asked in a sarcastic tone as Cait struggled to find her footing.

Her vision was dazed but she was able to fall back against a nearby wall and realise she was in the middle of an alleyway and that her two only routes of escape was on either side...the narrow entrances to where the alley ran between two buildings but that was the problem. The area she was in was large and illuminated but a few flaming barrels that gave her, her bearings but as it was an alleyway, the two entrance/exit paths would be narrower than a ghouls forearm.

Realising she couldn't run, Cait resorted to the only thing she could do and unlucky for the raiders, it was what she does best.

She tried to bring her fists up into a fighting stance but felt more intoxicated and confused than she should have. Those two blows to the head had really taken a toll on her. That and her blurred vision...she wouldn't stand a chance.

The two raiders merely laughed as they slowly walked twards Cait. She could just make out that the one on her right had a sack over his head and was wearing a set of Raider leathers. He had the gun and was the bastard that had hit her over the head...twice. The rusty pipe pistol was firm in his grasp as he flexed his fingers every couple of seconds to draw Cait's attention to it. The one on her right was in a set of road leathers with some raider armour mashed onto his four limbs.

-"C'mon then...y...you...gr...gre...greasy fooks" Cait slurred as she tried to string together a sentence. She actually felt scared...that was the one thing she feared...being defenceless against a bunch of raiders. The memories it brought back were not welcoming and she hated being reminded of them and made every effort to block them out as best as she could at all times. This, however, was one of those times she felt like she would have to live through all the rape and abuse all over again...and that is what she hated.

As they advanced twards her with sadistic grins on their faces, Cait slumps down on her ass and her vision escapes her. The last thing she hears was the sound of an automatic rifle cutting through the air and the raiders dying screams.

Harry reloaded his rifle and looked down at the two dead raiders that he had just killed. He didn't like them because they just killed for pleasure; there was no humanity in it, just cruelty. They did a damn sight more than killing but Harry's attention was taken off of the lifeless raiders and to the woman who was slouched against the wall of the alley with a cut in the back of her head that was now letting out a liquid the same colour as her hair. _Gah shit, how do I always find myself in awkward ways out here?!_ He asked himself as he tried to stop the bleeding on the girl's head with a torn piece of the raider's old white shirt. He realised he'd have to get her back to his shack and fix her up there. Well...he couldn't just leave her there. Again, the right thing to do results in him taking a complete stranger back to his house and a stranger whose gear looked very Gunner-esque but all Harry saw was someone who was being attacked by raiders and right now she needed his help.

He rear slung his rifle and picked her up bridal style and carried her back to his shack. It wasn't very far, he placed her down on the table and took her armour off their respected limbs on her Military Fatigue outfit and placed them to one side while he operated on her head. Only time will tell.

Harry was just so shocked and overcome with a sense of awe. His Gunner training had prepaid him in First-Aid but that was only to keep someone patched up in the field until the doc could take a look at them...shit, it was down to him. Well, on the bright side, at least he could say he tried. The sheer amount of fear and confusion that raced through his every action was frightening. Acting on impulse only, he tried his absolute best to save the woman who lay unconscious and bleeding heavily on his kitchen table.

Cait awoke with a jerk and sat upright to find herself in a bed. As weird as it felt, she composed herself and got her bearings to find out where she was and what had happened. The room was dark, very dark. The only source of light was coming from the doorway on her left hand side. She turned to face it and noticed on the right side of the doorframe was her armour and boots which made her realise she hadn't been robbed. She swung her legs down to the floor and tried to stand up before a whole lot of pain entered her head. She placed both of her hand to her skull and braced through the few seconds of head rush she just received. She was on alert as she had no idea where she was and who was in the same building as her. She had already thought of a million and one possible escape planes in her head but needed to know what lies in the other room.

Finally Cait stood up and realised that her jacket was open. Doing it up, she then grabbed her boots and put them on and laced them up. She was confused as to what the fuck happened and where the fuck she was.

Turning left around the door frame, she saw a young man sitting at a blood soaked table, eating something on a stick. Withought moving, he said:

-"Sleep ok, how's your head?

Cait just stared at him with her mouth hung slightly ajar. His tone normal as if nothing had ever happened.

-"Y'know, at first, I thought you were bleeding so much that your hair had changed colour but no, it was your natural hai-." Cait cut him off.

-"Listen here fella, I don't know who you are or what you want, but you better start talking or that there stick'll be hanging out'er yer eye!" Her tone was very threatening, then again, so was most things she said.

The man quickly stood up and turned to face her.

-"Listen here, you Mickie, I saved your life! You nearly died but I patched you up and gave you a place to stay for the night-hell, I even made you breakfast but if you're gonna be a total bitch about it, you can just fuck off now!" Harry replied. His normal, soft tone gone, instead replaced with an elevated rough one.

-"Oh don't worry yer pretty little shirt, I'll be-wait, is that a- you're a fooking Gunner aren't ya?! Cait said, sounding more pissed in the second half of her sentence when she realised he was wearing a Gunner's flannel shirt, the standard trade mark. She could feel the heat beneath her skin as she waited, impatiently, for his answer.

-"No, not any more, I put that life behind me. You really think if I was a Gunner that I would have helped you? A gunner would rape you and take all of your good stuff, lucky for you, I'm not one" Harry suddenly felt defeated in a way; as if Cait had ripped open a wound. That was something he always felt now, whenever someone mentioned his past partnership with the Gunners.

Cait pointed at him with her right index finger and said:

-"That doesn't take away all the nasty, evil shit you merc's have done in yer lives! You are not'in but scoom" Cait spat as she scrunched up her face. "You call yer selves merc's when yer just a bunch of raiders wid fancy armour and stupid codenames!"

-"I've paid for what I did!" Harry shouted before pausing and taking a more relaxed tone "By living with what I've done for the rest of my life. Every time I close my eyes, I'm reminded of what I've done to people, people who couldn't defend themselves...now do you wanna stop bitching and have a drink? All that gabbing must be making you thirsty" Harry said as he gestured to his fridge.

Cait's expression changed, as it normally did when alcohol was involved. She relaxed and slowly approached the fridge, not wanting to seem too forward.

-"Well, it all depends on what ya got" she said as she peered inside. She noticed a nice, brown looking bottle of whiskey that tickled her fancy, causing her to remove it from its place on the shelf.

Harry took out a beer for himself after Cait had finished her browsing and sat back down in his chair. He then gestured for Cait to sit in the one opposite him. Complying, Cait sat down and began to drink her drink. She felt a lot more relaxed and at home with a bottle in her hand and completely forgot that she was ready to take this guy's head off just less than a few minutes ago. After stairing idly at the bottle for a few seconds, Cait spoke and said:

-"So where's this breakfast ya promised me?"

Harry stopped eating his, what looked like a makeshift Kebab and pulled out a Yao Guai stake from the cooking pot and placed it in front of Cait.

-"Blimey, where the fook did ya get dis?" Cait asked in a slight tone of shock.

-"I was a Gunner, which means I can shoot, right?! That and I got bored last night. I couldn't very well get to sleep with a girl who had nearly died in my bed. So I went and found poor little brother bear here and...well ended its life with a point forty five calibre bullet to the skull" Harry said, taking another swig of his beer.

-"That's a bit of a graphic soobject to be talkin' about over food, don't ye think?" Cait asked.

-"Well, it's true so..." Harry trailed off. That was another noticeable commodity about the Gunners, they lacked any sort of boundaries and that included what was ok to say over the table.

In the last few minutes, Cait's initial thoughts of this thug and murderer had changed, although, not by much but at least she wasn't in any mood to kill him anymore.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes while eating their food. It wasn't an awkward silence, just an uncomfortable one. Harry was just happy that the crazy bitch didn't die. That and the fact he wouldn't have to get rid of the body...fucking animals would have followed the scent right to his front door. Then again, more food for him, right? Gotta look on the bright side of this shit-hole that now passes for a world as well as the mad banter that he and this redhead seemed to have.

-"So, you look like you can handle yourself...that or you got a pretty decent employer that has given you some good shit"

-"Where you going wid this, Rambo?" Cait asked impatiently. She could sense his Gunner greed creeping in.

-"Well, since I'm out of work and since I saved your life, I kinda figure you owe me" Harry replied,

-"Oh no, I ain't soockin' no Gunner dick, you can fook right off" Cat responded, getting all defensive.

-"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, I wasn't gonna ask you anything like that. What I mean is I'd like you too hook me up with some work. You know, like a lifetime job?"

-"Well I can tell ya straight away that he won't take ye on, just for the sheer fact you were a Gunner" Cait said before taking a gulp of the whiskey.

-"Exactly, now that's where you vouch for me; tell him I'm not some lowlife piece of shit"

-"Is dis the type of favour you were after?" Cait asked.

-"Yeah, so, whadda you say, Mickie?" Harry asked gingerly as he held his right hand out.

-"The names Cait, and if ye ever call me a Mickie again, I'll cut yer God damn balls off" Cait said as she stood up and walked to the bedroom to retrieve her gear.

The two had just threatened to kill each other, twice shared a drink over breakfast and were now about to work with each other, yeah anyone who would be willing to spend more than ten minutes in a room with both of them would see that they're tapped on the skull.

Harry just smiled and went followed Cait as the bedroom's wardrobe was were all his gear was aswell. He placed a set of Military Fatigues and full set of combat armour (Minus the helmet) into an old, faded green duffle bag while Cait strapped her Sturdy combat armour onto her person. He then placed a leather chest piece on which he would use as a bandoleer to hold his magazines and walked back onto the kitchen to fill up the bag with some bottles of purified water. Whatever magazines he couldn't fit into his bandoleer, he placed into the duffle bag. Cait took a great deal of humour in watching this man be so precise about his preparation. Harry then strapped a .44 Magnum to his right hip and loaded some spare cylinders into the bandolier wherever they would fit and picked up his automatic combat rifle. The rifle had a long light barrel, hardened automatic receiver, quick eject large magazine, Reflex sights and a recoil compensating stock.

After his preparation, Harry turned around to see Cait had left the room. He exited and found her staring at two enamel buckets filled with blood and a soaked rag. Harry just approached slowly and gave her some time to process what she was seeing.

-"Did I...did I really lose that mooch blood last night?" Cait asked, sounding so docile and almost scared.

-"Yeah...yeah, you did" Harry answered, trying not to upset her.

-"Wow, I guess you really did save me life...thank you" Cait said as she turned to face Harry. Only now the seriousness of what endured in the night hours had hit her.

-"Look, let's just leave and forget about it, yeah? I don't want you feeling like you owe me more than you do so...let's just go get a job, and get me paid and you back home?"

-"Alright boyo, follow me. It's a long walk so you better be ready"

-"Trust me; I'm no stranger to walking...and the names Harry. Harry Lincon"

"Ok Harry, let's get a move on, I don't wanna have to drag yer arse all the way"

Harry let out a chuckle before saying:

-"Hey, I'll be impressed if you can keep up with me"

-"If you storm ahead, how the hell are ye supposed to know where yer goin'?" Cait asked, sounding all witty.

-"Well I'll...good point" Harry said as he locked up his shack and the two started on their journey to Sanctuary. Their banterious, witty conversations were far from over.

It was a warm morning in Sanctuary Hills; the sky was clear and the sun was up. Sanctuary Hills was one of the main settlements and key stronghold that was involved in the Minutemen's structural plan. It served as one of the four key settlements that were under Minutemen control. The Castle was the bottom right stronghold, Egret Tours Marina as the bottom left, Kingsport Lighthouse as the top right and Sanctuary as the top left. These four locations were the outer framework strong-points within the 25 plus settlements that were controlled by the Minutemen.

Howard was now sitting at on old desk with his back to the wall of were an old power armour stand used to be before it was moved down to the guard post. He was incessantly fiddling with an old orange ham radio trying to get a signal. The old yellow house where he was currently sitting was Sturgus' and Mama Murphy's accommodation. Someone needed to look after her and since Jun had been assigned to oversee the security detail in order to take his mind off of the loss of his son and Marcy being in charge of the agriculture and farming, Sturgus was the only other option. He didn't mind, he was always trying to fix the house up anyway.

It was opposite Howard's house so it was a short walk and the overhead cover was good for hot days like this when he needed to sit about for hours on end running one of the largest coalition of communities in America. But he still kept on fighting, still trying.

-"This is General Howard Parker calling Colonel Garvey at the Castel, you read me Preston?" Howard called over the radio when it seemed like he had a signal.

"*Static*..arvy responding, I read you General"

Howard had promoted Garvey to Colonel and second in command as soon as he was made General. When he said that there was no one to argue with him when he made Howard the new General, Howard said that, as General, he would be able to do that and have no one argue with him. Garvey was shocked but accepted and has held the rank up to the standards. It wasn't long before there were two other members appointed Colonel to control their respected sectors but all of them would ultimately report to Howard.

-"I've been trying to raise you all morning, did the supply caravan from the Drive-In reach you, it should have arrived last night?" Howard asked.

-"Yeah General, the caravan arrived just after dusk. We've sent a patrol of four on a return policing circuit to make sure everything is ok and the smaller settlements aren't having any problems and if they are, how we can help"

-"Good, I'll be in contact, take care of yourself, Preston"

-"You too, General"

That was another thing being the leader of a powerful faction entailed...all the damn behind the scenes work, making sure everything ran smoothly, each settlement had what it needed etc. It was stressful but somehow, Howard managed, all while searching for his son. He did have to admit, the large area's they controlled and often policed had made searching for Shaun all the easier.

After terminating the connection, Howard stared blankly at the floor while swivelling in his chair for a while before reaching into the second drawer on the left side and pulling out a small blue spongy ball. After bouncing it twice, he whistled and a German Sheppard in a black and white skull bandana came galloping enthusiastically to him from across the road.

"Hey boy, how've you been, did you miss me?!" Howard asked rhetorically ash the dog stood up on its hind legs and threw itself into his owners lap for the cuddles that ensued. "See the ball Dogmeat?!" Howard asked

Dogmeat let out an acknowledging bark of enthusiasm as he eyed up the blue sphere in his master's hand, waiting patiently to strike.

"OK, ready, go get it" Howard said as he launched the ball over the road.

He loved Dogmeat, he really filled the hole Shaun had left inside him, making each day seem slightly easier. He was so pleased to have found the dog within the earlier days of his emergence into the new world and had to admit, Dogmeat had saved his ass plenty of times when he was still green as grass into the game of survival that is everyday life in the Commonwealth. None the less, he owed this dog a lot, and always would look after him.

Howard had spent no expense training Dogmeat to be the perfect companion as well as a strong defence mechanism. Dogmeat almost had a sixth sense for danger as he would be the most playful dog in the world to most people but if you planned on hurting anyone around Howard or Howard himself, he'd sniff you out and that would be the end of it. He knew how to fetch valuables and responded to almost all verbal commands given. He was really something.

Not long after the small, cheerful ball throwing, Piper had approached Howard. Coming up the road, Dogmeat had smelled her and proceeded to engage in his hugging that he so often does.

-"Hey boy, nice to see you, too" Piper cheerfully responded whilst patting him on the head. "You got a moment, Blue?" she asked Howard as she placed her hands into her loud, faded red leather trench coat. Howard nodded to her question and stood up, placing the ball back into the drawer and gesturing his head for Piper to follow him.

Piper was one of his best friends and personal confidant; even if she was a reporter. She was always there for Howard and he liked it that way. She was one of his favourite people in the Commonwealth and he owed her everything for all the work she had done in helping him find Shaun. She had stopped with reporting on Diamond City (at least for the time being) and focused all of her reporter skills and time into finding Shaun. Howard owed her so much already yet, all she wanted was a friend. Something he kindly obliged to

She followed closely as the duo walked up to the old tree at the top of the settlement, talking all the way. Dogmeat had by now disappeared like he always does when he knows Howard has business to do.

-"What is it, Piper, something bothering you?" Howard asked in a quiet, caring tone.

-"Yeah, it's Nat; she's been running off lately and I don't know where she's been going. Every time I try to talk to her about it, she just replies rudely to me about how I'm 'being all nosey' or 'you don't need to report on me' and quite frankly, I'm worried, Blue. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I just see her doing Chems and becoming an addict. I know it's probably nothing but if you could just send someone to keep an eye on her, I'd be very grateful" Piper asked in a light tone. She sounded very upset and concerned for her sister. Howard couldn't refuse.

-"Don't worry, it'll be sorted and if anything sinister is going on, I'll stop it. First I gotta update the books and then I'll get someone right on it. You have my word Piper, I won't let anything happen to your sister" Howard said with a strong presence of determination in his voice.

-"Thank you, you have no idea how worried I am!" Piper exclaimed as she hugged him.

-"You don't need to thank me, you've already done so much for me, it would be criminal to refuse" Howard said as he leaned against the tree. "Now go on, and leave worrying about Nat to me" Howard said with a chuckle.

Piper smiled before returning to her day; Nat was the only family she had left and growing up in a post apocalyptic world wasn't easy, Piper knew this all too well and wasn't about to let Nat suffer the horrors of the Boston Commonwealth. Not many people could say they had a chance at protecting a young loved one with walls, guards, food and clean water and the perky reporter wasn't gonna take it for granted.

As Howard returned to his desk and sat down, he noticed a guard walk past and realised the opportunity.

-"Hey Donnie, come 'ere, I gotta job for ya" Howard called out to his fellow minuteman.

-"Anything you need General?" Donnie asked as he approached the desk.

-"You know Nat, Piper's sister? I need you to low-key tail her and see where she disappears off to. Don't engage, just find out and report back to me" Howard ordered and was met with a sound nod from Donnie.

Donnie was a young, dark skinned man who was wearing a Minuteman outfit with a Study Leather right arm and cheastplate for additional protection. He had a long three cranked laser musket in his hands that he proceeded to sling behind him and walk around to engage in his mission.

Relived to have sorted one problem, Howard felt another weight lift off of his shoulders. Shaun was still out there though, making everything seem never ending until he found his son. The only lead he had was Virgil and the Glowing Sea. That's all the information he had managed to pull from the trip into Kellogg's mind, other than seeing Kellogg in a new light. He was still an asshole, a dead asshole albeit but Howard realised he wasn't necessary an evil asshole. Some of the things that had happened to him would be enough to make anyone go insane.

There were multiple options to take, pay a visit to the old airport and see what the 'Brotherhood of Steel' are, they could help in some way, it's what they said they were here to do after all. Or there was the mysterious 'Railroad' that everyone was still debating existed. Well, Howard could get replaced by a synth; they would need to take him to the institute to do it. It was a long shot but still an option. His train of thought was cut short when he saw two figures walk up the drive, only one of which he knew.

The Glowing Sea was an inhospitable mass of horror and fear. Only the most brave or foolish dared set foot near it, let alone the actual remains of the sea itself. This also was a chance at opportunity; all that land, left untouched since the bombs fell. Who knows what treasures its pungent radioactivity still guards?! There was no one in the Commonwealth who would dare risk the adventure there...except one.

Across the radioactive-ridden filth and muck, a husky suit of T-51f power armour trudged through the condemned wasteland. Carrying nothing but a Lazer Rifle with a full stock, Boosted Gamma Wave Emitter receiver and Long Focused Barrel, Brett Gray made his way along the foul floor of the Glowing Sea. He was not alone, however, there was a small Automatron secured to the back of his armour via Military-Grade magnets that not only provided him with company, but also a small contingency of protection from the rear and a way to change Fusion Cores without having to leave his suit.

Coated in a paint of Aqua, this Assaultron had an automatic Lazer Rifle instead of a right hand and an Assaultron shock Claw attached to her left hand. Her right arm was currently that of a sentry bot dude t an unpleasant encounter with a Savage deathclaw which was also the reason she had Protectron legs instead of her original Assaultron ones. These legs were able to be pistoned up infront of her body that had sever pouches attached to it to help with carrying scavenged materials as a means of reducing her size, making Brett's manoeuvrability less constricted.

The two had been together ever since Brett activated her containment pod back in the old collapsed RobCo factory in the far southern end of the sea. Cut off from the Mainframe, she was unable to detect her primary function so Brett gave her a new one. Naming her Ada when he enabled her personality mode, she was his companion and brought sociability to his life. Due to all the time he spends in the sea, Brett was never able to stay in one place for long, resulting in him in remaining distant from the current populace of The Commonwealth. Ada had possibly stopped him from going insane as she gave him someone to talk to other than himself and actually spoke back and asked him questions as well. Despite how much of the sea they had explored together, there was still sp much more to go.

As he stumbled upon an old Red Rocket Truck Stop, Brett scanned it.

-"Running visual scan; Ada, give me a diagnostic of the ground and tell me if you see anything. Don't want any surprises up here" Brett said as he scanned the area with the built in system in the power armours helmet. His voice was moderately pitched and slightly gritty but the helmet cancelled all that out.

-"Running diagnostic scan" Ada replied.

After analysing the structure, Brett was able to see there were no life forms inside the old shop. The ground had piled up on top off the garage access way and the roof of the gas station was now lying in the floor on which Brett walked on. The only way in was via the jammed door that Brett could see ever so slightly sparkling. He made a move for the door when Ada said:

-"Alert, I have detected three life signs under the ground and approaching at an alarming pace"

Brett froze, he had hoped for a peaceful scavenge but that was obviously not an option any more. Ada deployed off his back just before turning around 180 degrees. Radscorpions, it had to be, nothing else would move that fast. The only thing now was determing what type they were. Brett was used to the monsters attacking him but he always had a small chill in his spine, just for a moment. He never knew what fight would be his last.

Brett brought his Lazer Rifle into his shoulder and took aim, just waiting for them to jump out of the ground. Radscorpions' attack patterns were always very similar. They'd never all pop up at once, there was usually half a second delay from the time the first one emerged to the time the last one emerged. Little things like these are what had kept Brett alive for so long.

-"One approaching on the right, the other two are more central, heading for you" Ada said as she scanned the ground again.

Brett closed his eyes for a second and exhaled slowly. Here we go.

As if on cue, the first Radscorpion flew up through the earth and was met with a zap from Ada's left claw, and then a repetition of automatic Lazer fire into its cranium to make sure it stayed down. As her Lazer was firing one more ascended in front of Brett and was met with a hard right kick, turning it over on its back. Brett fired from the hip and took off three of the legs on its left side.

The final scorpion came up behind Brett and plunged its stinger into the top part of his back, letting out a loud denting sound. Brett turned around and fired three shots at the beast causing it to re submerge itself under the ground.

Wasting no time, Brett turned his attention to the helpless Radscorpion still on its back and proceeded to curb stomp the underneath of its head, blowing its insides all over the ground. Ada was also victorious in her tussle at this point also, turning the tables from 3on1 to 2on1. Now they just had to play the waiting game. The tense seconds felt like hours to the two scavengers until finally the Radscorpion emerged and plunged at Brett, nearly toppling the metal giant over. A gun-butt from his Lazer Rifle brought it back to ground which allowed Ada to grab a hold of its stinger with her claw had and slowly cook it.

Unable to go anywhere, the Radscorpion cried out as Brett unleashed a further five shouts into its face, killing the beast.

Brett breathed a sigh of relief; he was still alive and ticking. Not today he thought to himself as he thanked Ada and walked over to the door of the old garage. He still had salvage to get and he could sense it. Punching the epicentre of the door three times before eventually revealing a split, Brett placed his hands into the opening and pulled with all his strength on the jammed doors, opening them for the first time in many years.

Just as Brett let out another sigh, his armour made a familiar alarm noise to alert him that he had entered the last quarter of his fusion cores power. This was a prompt to hurry up.

After searching the store and coming up short, both members were un happy that there was nothing of any use in the garage, until Brett saw the closed metallic shutters of the vehicle entrance. Silently praying as he approached the big red button on the wall, Brett pushed it with his left hand, causing the mechanisms to pull it open and low and behold, there was the back end of a rusted pickup truck drowned in dirt, shit and other unpleasentries with a metal crate on it. Brett yanked off the lid to be welcomed to six fusion cores, a number of fusion cells and a few plasma grenades. Brett muttered a thank you before he started loading them into the numerous compartment bags on Ada's back.

The day was waning and the Glowing Sea was even worse at night. After the recently found bounty, the two decided it would be best to retreat to their camp to figure out the next moves. They hadn't found anything besides what they did in the old truck stop, but there was a fair price to be made off of the grenades. Brett would keep the fusion cores and cells, save him buy any more. The long hike to Diamond City that Brett took to see his found wares was a tedious one, one he hated. Brett wasn't so much of a social outcast but did prefer the solitude of his own life and favoured the company of his robotic companion that that of any human being.

The contract work was good...when it came about. Many patrons had heard stories of treasures buried in the Glowing Sea or what has been left behind by the companies out there before the bombs fell. Plans to get rich, be set up for life, have it all...it was all pipe dreams to most Wastelanders but Brett didn't mind the copious sums of caps they paid him to search for the remains of whatever they found etched onto an old piece of parchment in some hidden toolbox.

As being the only known sane man brave enough to enter the irradiated pit of hell, he was usually who people would hire to find said things. That or go themselves and some bloke in power armour seemed to be the better option. True, Brett was a scavenger, but also a businessman; making money wherever he could with whatever he could. Opportunity was never something Brett passed up on.

Brett had a small shack just south east of the edge of the Glowing Sea that he called home. It was fairly roomy inside despite its seemingly small exterior that was built up against a tall cliff-face. Two turrets on the roof and a strip of barbed wire and sharp logs provided a suitable defence for someone living in the dangerous openness of the Boston Wasteland. It was more effective than it seemed...well, he wasn't dead yet so that's something.

The inside was simple; a bed in the top right corner, a power armour stand in the top left, facing the bed, a small table in the middle of the room with two chairs opposite each other, a cooking stove and shelves and containers with needed necessities such as food and drinks, on the right wall and a workbench and locker in the bottom right that housed all the tools for maintenance and repair of his weapons and armour with a gun rack to complete the look of OCD and seriousness.

Brett ejected himself from his power armour and took a seat on his bed, placing his rifle next to him. Clad a green mechanic jumpsuit, he stared at the sealing contemplating whether or not to journey to Diamond City or Bunker hill to look for work in the morning. Such thoughts were put out of his head when remembering the events of the day. Brett was always scared; scared of dying and the vile creatures that were in his line of work always left their mark on him. He always thought it ironic how much work and time he spent there, hell it was his job, he could always find one far away, less chance of a Deathclaw attack but could never bring himself to do it. Every creature terrified him in the Glowing Sea and he made every conscious effort to avoid them. You wouldn't guess it but he knew, he always had.

Running his hair through his shaggy brown hair and scratching the small stubbled five o clock shadow on his dark white face, Brett thought of the time he was a child, living with his parents and older sister. Those were happy times, happy memories that he always knew would lead him out of the dark and into a light place. It was with those thoughts that he drifted soundly to sleep.

Harry was panting quietly to himself as he struggled to keep up with Cait's fast pace. He was no stranger to speed and had good stamina but the redhead was tiring him out. Their journey from mid Boston to the far northwest had taken roughly three hours. The two had bonded over killing a group of raiders camped out by an old diner, and their witty banter kept both of them interested in any conversation that came up.

Cait liked Harry's attitude towards violence, it suited her but had she thought of him any more than a Gunner, she would have seen why. Yet, in the short time they were travelling, Cait got to see Harry as a more compassionate man than any Gunner ever that she could know. True, the small time they were together was not nearly as long enough for two people to get to know each other but when the only entertainment you have is conversation, Harry and his honeyed words were good to listen to.

-"You'd move a lot faster if you kept your eyes on the road and off me arse" Cait cracked as they reached the top of an old tarmaced hill.

-"With hips like those...not a chance" Harry panted, stopping to catch his breath when he reached the top.

Cait played it off as one of his jokes but yeah, he had been staring. Not often, but it offered a nice change from old car carcasses and the occasional trash can on fire. The day's nice weather continued as the duo made their way to Concord. Harry, deciding water would make a nice friend, stopped on an old faded-red bench to meet said friend.

"You can be serious, we're almost there, ye can have yer tea and biscuits soon enough" Cait said as she stood in front of him, crossing her arms.

-"Fuck you" Harry said after swallowing a large portion of water from his bottle before placing it back into his duffle bag.

Harry had carried gear with him before, his occupation as a Gunner made sure travelling and fitness were kept on top of but the weather and additional weight were ever slightly too much and he needed a break. The quiet sound of the nothingness was pleasing. It reminded Harry about the beauty that was still hidden in a world consumed by nuclear fire and how if you were looking for anything, you'd find it if you just looked hard enough.

Cait eventually realised he wasn't going to move and decided to take a seat next to him. Harry gestured to his bag, implying that he would offer her a drink but Cait just shook her head, not needing the fluids. The silence between the two wasn't awkward, just uncomfortable. Harry wanted to relax for a while, just as his lazy Gunner ass would want to, that Cait had kept saying throughout their journey and had gotten quite fond of the saying and she wanted to move and be back home doing absolutely nothing again, listening to Howard whine about not being good enough when he clearly was, MacCreedy go on about his bullshit adventure stories or Mama Murphy talk about drugs and visions and shit.

Harry saw Cait thinking out of the corner of his left eye and wondered what she could be thinking about. She was a...unique woman and that's what made her so intriguing to him' the desire to crack a code almost, Harry still had no idea what type of person her boss would be as most talk of business and personal life were two things she kept most quiet about. Not that Harry had opened up to her completely but he had told her some bare essentials. He'd have better luck getting a stone to bleed.

-"let me have a look at your head" Having enough of the silence, Harry piped up and turned to face Cait.

-"No need, I'm fine, I can't fee a thing, honest" Cait replied, trying to dismiss the request. It was obviously a lie, something she'd never quite been good at but she didn't want any more help off this guy than she had already received.

-"And I'm Abraham Lincoln. Well, I could be, same name and all, you never know" he joked "But seriously, you're a better fighter than a liar, just hold still" Harry said as he stood up and walked in front of Cait. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle, unless you don't want me to be" He said with a wink before placing his hands on Cait's head and tilting it forward

Cait sighed at his joke as she reluctantly complied with his request and Harry him lead her head in the direction he needed. True to his word, Harry was careful, making sure that whenever he prodded the wound, he did it with delicacy and made sure to try not to cause any unnecessary pain. After a few seconds of incoherent mumbling to himself, Harry let go of Cait's head and said:

-"Well, the stitches have held and nothing seems to be re opening. I'd say you'll be good and they'll start to dissolve in about two days. You should be fine"

Fair play, for a Gunner, he seemed genuinely to care for her, well, I mean, he must have been like that to everyone, right?! Cait though to herself. The two could not have predicted themselves in the arrangement that they had found themselves in even now. Although similar in some sense, they were complete opposites in another.

Before Harry could sit down, a sharp noise was heard from down the street. Harry quickly picked up his rifle and jogged off to investigate, leaving Cait alone on the bench. She took the thought as it most likely being a rat, however was resentful at the potential missed opportunity for a fight. On the other hand, she didn't mind someone else doing the work while she chilled on a bench, enjoying the sun.

Her optimistic peace was cut short when a dirty figure emerged from one of the houses in front of her. His poor quality armour and pipe rifle give off the impression that he was from one of the local raider gangs and must either have gotten separated or was on the run.

As the figure, who Cait realised was a man, slowly approached her, he removed the goggles from his face with his left hand, while keeping his right hand on the grip of the weapon to get a clearer look at his target. Cait just sighed to herself as she stood up off the bench, only for the Raider to bring the weapon into his shoulder as an indication that she shouldn't move again. Guess her shotgun had to stay leaned up against the leg off the bench.

-"Well well well, whadda we have here?! You look a little kitted up to be enjoying a stroll, pretty lady" The Raider said, his voice was rough, but also high pitched and he was panting, almost like he'd been running.

-"I'm gonna give ye one chance to fook off before I shove that bloody thing up yer arse!" Cait responded in her usual tone that showed she was in no state of fear.

Cait wasn't afraid in the slightest, she would have been happy to shove this guy's head up his own ass if it came to it. The Raider on the other hand seemed in a state of shock and even though he tried to play it cool, Cait could see he was distracted by something other than her. The fact that he kept looking over her shoulders and scanning the area further supported her theory.

-"Uh uh, I'm the one with the gun, so that means I call the shots. So first off, you're gonna take off everything you have, place them in that here bag there and throw it over to me" The Raider inched ever closer to Cait as he spoke. He moved very slowly, keeping his distance, but still narrowing the gap.

"What, you expect me to strip right down to me skivvies aswell, do ya?!" Cait said, throwing her hands up in the air to emphasise her point of falsity.

-"Yeah, I do actually, now hurry up, I ain't got all day" The Raider answered the rhetorical question with a smirk on his face, before adopting the terribly weak fearsome look he had on before. "You shouldn't have been out here alone" he joked.

-"What makes you think I'm alone?" Cait responded and as if on cue, a shot echoed all around them as the Raider collapsed to the ground, dropping his rifle and placing his hands on his right thy that was now bleeding heavily from the bullet would inflicted on him.

Cait took this opportunity to grab her shotgun and bash the Raider across the right side of his head, knocking him further to the ground. Harry had begun running twards them as soon as the Raider went down. Jogging up from behind a destroyed house, he placed the muzzle of his rifle next to the Raiders head and paused. The Raider went to turn, to plea for his pathetic waste of a life but Harry and Cait wouldn't know what he was going to say as another shot went off, landing in the man's' skull, finishing him off.

The smoke drifted away from Harry's barrel as he slung the weapon over his shoulder and looked at Cait before saying:

-"That's twice I've saved you, this carries on and you might actually think I like you"

-"Don't worry, the feeling isn't mutual"

-"Good, I don't want you thinking we're friends or anything" They sounded serious but both knew the other was joking. Harry walked over to his bag to stash what loot he had came across in his little venture behind the houses. "Two bodies were back there; both had been stabbed and I guess that was the noise w heard due to the shitty metal they were wearing. My guess is that our master mugger here was the reason why. My guess-He pissed off his Raider buddies, fled and those two were sent after him to bring back his head. He won and was tryna mug you to get better gear and hopefully not die."

-"Prime detective skills Sliver Shroud" now can you tell me who really killed JFK?" Cait joked as she gestured the way forward. She planned to get behind the confines of Sanctuary's walls and not face another shitty mugger within the small portion of their journey they had left.

The two walked in silence on the way out of concord before coming to a heavily fortified old Red Rocket Truck Stop. Walls surrounded the perimeter with shacks built on top of the garage. Harry could just make out what seemed like an Artillery unit placed there. Shit, whoever Cait's employers were, he'd be set for life. There must have been at least six turrets he could see.

They approached a checkpoint that was manned by a dark skinned woman in a set of army fatigues and a full set of combat armour wielding a short recoil compensating Lazer Rifle and stood at small guard post with two turrets in front of her on her right was a doorframe that they passed through after the guard recognised Cait and any other part of the road had been wire-fenced off. Harry was smiling like a schoolboy on the inside as his mind was filled with thoughts of riches and prosperity...until he saw the Minutemen flag on one of the walls around the back of the building.

This is what Harry was afraid of; being an ex Gunner, he would never be taken on and even if he was, he wasn't one for cowboy hats and Lazer Muskets. He wanted to be in the position the guards at the Truck Stop were in, armed to the teeth. He knew however that he was in no place to be thinking about what he wanted as if he would be lucky enough to be accepted, he would have to do whatever he was told, which in his case, he could see them making him clean up after the Brahmin.

Trying not to let Cait see him in the state of disheartenment he was in, he kept his head down as they walked up the road, following it as it curved around to the right. As they approached a bridge, Harry looked up to see the heavily fortified bastion that was ...Sanctuary Hills

 **So yeah, that was beefy as fuck. I know I swapped a lot of character viewpoints around but it will all make sense in the chapters to come. Think of it like Game of Thrones; each view has its own timeline, for example, Howard's view ends in what would be chapter 2 for Harry and Cait? Anyway, thanks for reading, give it a Fol/Fav it's much appreciated. I'll have the second chapter up soon so don't worry, more shit and introductions will be made there. Finally, thanks again!**


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